The creatures climbing on you aren’t cute.
Whatever their unknown pursuit,
you merely seem to be a thing
to which they’ve chosen, now, to cling –
and nothing more.
You are the scaffolding and door
and floor and ceiling of their enterprise –
as mutely useful as expedient supplies.
Their undivulged agenda, untold goal
do not require you to have a soul.
All you have to be is there.
Otherwise they do not care.
Strange, this causes happiness!
Some balance has achieved redress.
Sanguine feelings are released. Chiefamong them is relief.